


Little Briar Rose

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Worship, Consensual Somnophilia, Drugged Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9188369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: Am I damned for feeling I can't help amassing?Would loving you weight down my soul with sin?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambersagen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambersagen/gifts).



> Title from [here](http://www.netpoets.com/poems/love/0004001.htm).

Dean’s always looked like a little boy when he’s asleep. There’s no tension around his eyes or in his jaw, his mouth goes just a bit slack, and - when he’s not suffering from nightmares - his expression almost looks as though he’s caught up in the wonderment of a dream. Maybe it’s a bit odd to watch him sleep, but, some nights, Sam just can’t help himself. And tonight . . . well. He has permission, more or less.

  


Sam can’t quite help touching, either. It’s so easy to reach out and run a thumb over soft lips, feeling the steady inhale-exhale ghosting over his hand, the slight damp drag as callouses catch on slightly chapped skin. Dean’s cheeks are sleep-warm, his jaw stubbled. Shadows hide his freckles and sleep hides green eyes, and Sam thinks he’s beautiful. Replacing his fingers with his mouth, Sam traces the seam of Dean’s lips with the tip of his tongue, relishes in the feel of stubble as he makes his way across Dean’s cheek and down his jaw. The kiss to his forehead feels almost too tender and normally would be in the daylight, but there’s no one to judge Sam for indulging here. 

  


Gently, Sam nudges him over onto his back, pushing back the blankets so Dean is sprawled out beneath him. The pills he’d taken earlier keep him out, dulling his hunter reflexes so that the only  reaction Sam gets is the softest moan slipping from between Dean’s lips. With practiced hands, Sam strips his brother of his boxers, dropping them down next to the bed. Long legs spread easily for him, warm and loose as he gets comfortable between them. A knife waits on the bedside, just within reach, and it’s sharp enough to let Sam cut his way through the cheap cotton tee. He leaves the ruined shirt trapped beneath Dean as he drops the knife back on the bedside. Cool air makes Dean shiver in his sleep, nipples tightening up, and Sam only spares a moment to run his hands over bared skin before lowering himself to blanket his brother. 

  


Dean’s mouth is slack against Sam’s, and he licks and nibbles as he pleases, using one hand to hold Dean’s face right where he wants it. He’s hard against Dean’s belly, his brother’s dick half hard as it brushes against his own. 

  


“So pretty,” Sam whispers into the dark of the room, dropping more kisses to Dean’s cheeks, his forehead, his mouth. Warm and soft and oh so pliant, Sam has to shiver at the little rush of power that having Dean like this gives him, followed quickly by the warmth that Dean  _ giving himself to Sam _ like this evokes.  

  


Wiggling his hand beneath the pillow, Sam grabs the bottle of lube tucked there for occasions such as this. He wets two fingers, plays them over the outside of Dean’s hole before dipping in. Dean’s deliciously hot and just a little looser than he normally is awake. Sam groans quietly against Dean’s chest as he sinks his fingers inside Dean’s hole. It doesn’t take him long at all to make sure Dean is stretched enough, and Sam slicks his own cock with trembling fingers.

  


Tugging Dean’s legs up, Sam drapes them around his waist, tipping Dean’s hips so he can sink inside. His breathing seems too loud in the quiet of the room, prompting him to bite his lip to muffle a little of the sound as he pushes into Dean’s loose body. 

  


It isn’t until he’s buried deep that Dean actually makes a sound, the breathiest of moans that puffs warm air across Sam’s cheek. It tugs a little at Sam’s heart; Dean’s always so gentle, so soft and tender in bed, and it never fails to get to Sam how sweet his big brother really is underneath that hunter’s facade. Nuzzling along Dean’s jaw, Sam nibbles lightly at his earlobe. 

  


“Dean. Can you hear me?” Another soft moan, probably more in response to the rocking of Sam’s hips than his words, but hit makes him smile nonetheless. “That’s it. Come on.” 

  


Sam coaxes Dean awake with his mouth and his cock, letting his belly drag along Dean’s dick. Sleepy eyes flutter open at last, fuzzily looking about until they catch Sam’s. They don’t quite focus, but Dean manages a small, pleased smile right before his face twists in pleasure. He tries and fails to put his arms around Sam’s neck, instead clinging loosely to Sam’s wrists. Sleep drags him under and lets him go until Sam can tell he’s dizzy with it, lost in the haze of pleasure and sleep.  

  


“Stay with me now,” Sam murmurs, pushing up and dragging a hand between them to stroke Dean’s cock. Expressions flit sluggishly across Dean’s face, confusion and pleasure taking their turn until Dean’s mouth drops open as he comes. His orgasm is a weak thing, a tightening of his thighs and a slight rolling of his head. He peers blearily up at Sam, panting quietly as Sam leans down to brush their mouths together. 

  


“S’mmy.” 

  


“Good?” 

  


“Yeah,” Dean breathes out on a sigh. He manages to cling to a semblance of awakeness, eyes drifting shut and then back open as Sam thrusts into him, picking up the pace ever so slightly as he chases his orgasm. Dipping low, Sam presses his forehead into Dean’s shoulder, trapping the cry he makes against Dean’s neck. 

  


Sleep has already reclaimed Dean by the time Sam comes down. He pulls out carefully, slipping out of bed to grab a cloth to clean them both of come. Sam lovingly straightens Dean’s limbs out, making sure he’s comfortable before dragging the bedding back up and over his brother. Coming doesn’t usually put Sam to sleep, but it’s late enough that he can already feel the tiredness pulling at him, and there’s no point in resisting the urge to curl up next to Dean. He drapes an arm across his brother’s torso, pressing a final kiss to a sleep-and-sex sweaty temple before settling down beneath the covers. 


End file.
